


A Night Between Dancer and Cleric

by MellowCherryBlossom



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:16:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowCherryBlossom/pseuds/MellowCherryBlossom
Summary: Primrose invited Ophilia to her room for a night after teasing the cleric all day.





	A Night Between Dancer and Cleric

“I think you’ll be happy to know that I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Those words sent shivers up Ophilia’s spine, her mind conjuring images of her lover seated next to her in a much filthier position. She had been doing this all day to poor Ophilia, whispering devilish words into the cleric's ears, taunting and teasing her as the group unwound in the inn. Tressa had been haggling the innkeepers to get a better price for their rooms, the men and H’aanit had retired to their rooms early which left the cleric with the dancer; who was relishing at the idea of teasing the poor cleric. The dancer once more leaned into Ophilia, the cleric bracing herself for the words that would come out of Primrose’s mouth this time.

“Hey, it’s been a long day today,” she started, “why don’t you join me in my room tonight and I’ll help you…unwind a bit.” Finishing with a small nibble on the woman’s earlobe.

Once more, a shiver went up Ophilia’s spine at the dancer’s behavior, biting her lower lip to stifle any sound that would come out. It wasn’t like she took an oath to abstinence or an oath of celibacy, her religion wasn’t like that. So why did a part of her mind resist the dancer’s invitation? It certainly wasn’t the idea of being intimate with her that scared her. No, in fact, she would be lying if she said that those thoughts hadn’t been sneaking their way into her dreams and leaving her bed sheets wet and sticky in the morning. So, what was it?

Her mind was ripped from these thoughts as Primrose stood and walked away, accenting the sway in her hips as she glanced back to face the cleric, a smile so pure an innocent as if she hadn’t been lacing the cleric’s mind with such vulgar thoughts. The dancer knew she had the cleric in the palm of her hands: the way she looked at her with such love and admiration how could she not tease her into oblivion? Watching the brain melt in the cleric’s mind as she teased her. It was so satisfying watching her lover slowly break and succumb to the words that she whispered. 

Licking her lips, the cleric stood as well, trusting Tressa to know her way to her room once she was finished haggling the keepers. She followed in quick pursuit of Primrose as the dancer sped down the halls towards her room. When she stopped in front of her door, she couldn’t help but notice how sweet her lips looked, so plump and so kissable. 

“Not yet, be patient.” The dancer teased again, taking an eternity to unlock her room door.

“I am patient.” She said, trying to convince herself more than Primrose. 

After another eternity passed the door was finally opened, and the dancer leads the cleric into the room and closing the door behind her. At that moment the dancer attacked Ophilia, lips locking with hers as the two clumsily made their way towards the bed. Pushing the cleric down, the dancer indulged herself in the taste of the woman’s lips. The cleric’s sweet lips crashing against the dancer’s bitter ones, teeth banging against one another’s as they gave breathy sighs and soft moans. Primrose leading their dance as always, but happy to tell that Ophilia wasn’t that far behind her. But, the need for air overcame her, and she pulled away from the cleric, the two panting and gasping for air, filling their lungs with the precious oxygen it so craved. 

“Tell me, dearest Ophilia, what do you want?”

“I want you.” The cleric admitted, licking her now swollen lips, her hands roaming the bare skin of Primrose, lost in the soft and smoothness of it. 

“Then, let me get you out of these bothersome robes.” She said, hands undoing the clasp that kept her little cloak on, letting the white fabric fall to the ground as her lips attacked her neck, attaching themselves to the sensitive skin and licking and softly suckling the skin as she worked the gloves off the cleric, grabbing her roaming arms and peeling the fabric from her and letting them join the others on the ground. She loved hearing the gasps and soft moans that would escape her mouth, delighted at the thought that she was the one doing that to the cleric. That she was the only one that got to taste her lips, mark her skin, and feel her as she came undone beneath the dancer. 

“P-Prim, please.” The cleric begged, hissing softly when she felt the dancer’s teeth bite into her neck before the soft and wet sensation of her tongue dragged itself against the bruise on her neck. Her body felt like it was on fire, every touch burned her skin as Primrose’s lips left her neck with a wet pop, her robes being pulled over her head and dropped to the ground, leaving her in her small cloths. 

“I love it when you’re all hot and bothered. You look so sexy when you have desperation written all over your face.” Primrose muttered into her ears, tracing her tongue along the outline of her ear, feeling the woman below her shake and shuttered as she stimulated her body. “Look at you, so turned on by me, dripping wet, aren’t you?” She taunted, dragging her hands up the smooth and slightly muscular stomach of Ophilia and sliding her hands under the small cloth coving her breast, feeling the soft and yielding flesh in her bare hands. 

Ophilia wiggled and squirmed under her touch, feeling her trace her nipple with the tip of her index fingers, wrenching out more noises that were muffled by her hand pressing against her mouth. 

“Come now, Ophilia, won’t you move your hands to the side? I want to hear you.” Primrose said, her hands leaving the breast and snaking around to undo the small clasp keeping her breast hidden from her and tossing it to the side, licking her lips when the soft skin was exposed to her. 

Ophilia licked her lips and did as told, moving her hands from her mouth and placing them just above her breast, one hand on top of the other. Her eyes darting to the side as Primrose just loomed over her, doing nothing. “Uh, P-Prim. Aren’t you going to…” she said, trailing off.

“I will, soon. I’m just enjoying my view. Now, where was I?” the dancer said, one hand trailing down Ophilia’s stomach as the other fondled and played with one of her breasts, squeezing the flesh and fat and pinching the nub in between her fingers.  
“Oh, oh.” Ophilia moaned softly before jumping suddenly when Primrose’s hand slipped under her underwear, hands instinctively going up to cover her mouth, much to Primrose’s displeasure. Her hand stopped fondling the woman’s breasts and instead wrapped themselves around the cleric’s wrist and pinning them above her head. Even though the cleric was much stronger than her, she knew in this situation she couldn't resist.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare. I said I wanted to hear you. So, don’t even think about doing that. Do you hear me?” she growled out, licking her lips when the cleric nodded her head, the blond hair gently bouncing when she did so. “Good.” And Primrose’s focus shifted back to her hand under the cleric’s underwear, smiling when she got past the small patch of hairs and to the wetness beyond. 

Ophilia pressed her head into the soft bed, arching her back she if to pull away and push herself against the fingers. Primrose held her breath as she felt around Ophilia’s sex, and it was surprisingly hard figuring out what she was touching without seeing. Her body feeling worlds apart to her own. She was so wet. She could feel how drenched her underwear had become with the back of her palm, knowing full well she was the same way.

Primrose traced around the girl’s outer lips, feeling the slickness and heat emanating from Ophilia as she touched her, trying to get a feel of her sex and learn where she brought out the best reaction from the panting and ragged breathed Ophilia, hips twitching at Primrose’s caresses. Primrose slipped her finger upwards, gently lifting the woman’s clitoral hood and rubbing the flesh, watching as her hips bucked as she let out a loud moan. “That’s it. That’s what I wanted to hear from you.”  
“Oh fuck, Prim.” Ophilia’s voice laced with pleasure, eyes closed as she revealed in the feeling of Primrose’s fingers feeling her under her underwear. 

Primrose licked her lips, enjoying all too much as the cleric’s flushed face contorted and her toes curled. Her fingers circling and spreading the moisture around before suddenly the cleric’s body shuttered and she let out a choked moan. Primrose blinked once as she watched Ophilia come down from her high. “Did you just… ?” she asked her.

“I-I’m sorry.” She squeaked out.

“Hey, it’s fine. You know what this means though, right?” Primrose asked, slipping her hands from under the girl’s garments and cleaning her digits of the clear juices.

“Wh-what?” Ophilia asked, eyes and mouth agape as she watched the dancer stick each finger into their mouth and clean them.

“It means, it’s my turn.” She said, shifting her body as she climbed up the holy woman and tossed the front part of her outfit forward, legs positioned at each side of Ophilia’s head.

Ophilia stared up at her lover’s lips before wrapping her arms around her thighs, slowly pulling the woman down onto her waiting tongue and lapping at her fold, feeling Primrose’s hand’s lace themselves into her blond hair, running through them and pushing it away from her face as she went to work on the dancer. 

“Oh, fuck! Ophilia!” The dancer keened as her tongue parted her folds and with one long and slow motion, her hands curl in the woman’s blond hair and softly tug at the roots, moaning as Ophilia’s mouth made quick work to undo her. Her tongue making tight and hot circles on her clit as she built her up with her tongue. Primrose had never been so desperate to finish in her life; toes curled and thighs tight around her, sweat dripping down her forehead and neck as she quivered with need. She felt Ophilia’s tongue enter her, wiggling around as it curled and flexed within her. Her back arched and she cried out sharply, her release slamming into her as shook and shivered. 

Rolling off the cleric, making sure not to snag any hair under her legs, the two sprawled out together, arms wrapped around one another as they breathed heavily. “That was amazing,” Primrose stated, getting a nod and a yawn from Ophilia.  
“Are you tired?”

“Are you not?”

“I am, just, wanted to make sure you didn’t need something before we go to sleep. Water, food, more blankets?”

“No, no I am fine. Thank you. Just, you and sleep are all I need right now.” Ophilia said to her, pulling her close and closing her eyes.

“Alright, and, if do need anything just ask.” Primrose said, throwing the blanket over the two of them and closing her eyes as well, joining the cleric in sleep.


End file.
